An Unexpected Hobbit
by Belladonna Wynter
Summary: Bilbo's little sister takes his place in the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, because really, who wouldn't want to go on a quest with a dozen Dwarves, a wizard, and a studly Dwarf king along the way. Unabashed Mary Sue. Based on the film version. Ultimately a Thorin/OC fic with a healthy dose of comedy and common sense, as only Hobbits can deliver.


An Unexpected Hobbit

"Now, you just take care not to talk to any strangers." Bilbo warned his adopted sister as he scooped up his backpack that he had hastily packed just before Bells had come home from the market. She had arrived to see an extremely agitated Bilbo frantically running about the house, stuffing random items into his bag. It had taken a good twenty minutes and a dozen cups of tea for her to calm him down enough to get him to tell her that Gandalf had come by and wanted something from him. He couldn't tell her what, but he wasn't going to hang around to find out. He did however, promise her he would be back in a week or so, after Gandalf had left.

Bilbo felt bad about leaving his sweet baby sister to face the wizard by herself, but if Bilbo wasn't around, surely he would leave the little Hobbitess alone. It would all be a case of bad timing. Surely Gandalf wouldn't hold the girl responsible for that. It's not like she could have done anything to keep him there. Bilbo was certain of that; nothing was going to keep him in the Shire *this* week! He had been wanting to do a little traveling outside of the Shire for a few years anyways. Now was as good a time to go as any, he reasoned.

Bells rolled her eyes at her brother's patronizing. She was more than capable of telling an old wizard that her brother wasn't in, and wasn't likely to be anytime soon. She had no idea what Gandalf had done to be so terrifying to her brother, but she was certain he was overreacting.

"Yes, Bilbo, I'll be fine. You just take care of yourself," she said as she readjusted a rather pointy spoon handle sticking out of his pack that had been a little too close to his neck. If he had tripped and fallen at just the wrong angle, he wouldn't have needed to walk out of town for a few days to avoid the wizard. Really, Bilbo was in more danger from his frantic state than from Gandalf. Still, she knew he would only worry himself further into a tizzy if he stayed. Better to get him out of the house and let him recover from… whatever Gandalf had said.

Bilbo turned around and put his hands on his little sisters' shoulders, making sure he had her full attention. "Be careful. Don't forget to leave the front candle lit at night so people will think I'm up late reading." In the last 20 years he had grown quite fond of the little waif he had taken in, and frequently bordered on over-protective. Bells appreciated the thought, but still insisted she could manage herself. "And if that dreadful wizard comes back, be sure to tell him he is not welcome in my house."

Bells expression softened at the thought of Bilbo being angry with the wizard. "Don't be like that. Gandalf is the reason you took me in in the first place. He is welcome here as far as I'm concerned, though not if he's going to be as unpleasant as you say he is. And if you don't like it, you can stay here and tell him off yourself." Bells folded her arms and dared her big brother to defy her. Part of her wished he would. Bilbo was being stupid and she would miss him if he left, even if it was only for a few days. They had never been apart for more than a day and she was sad to see him go.

Bilbo frowned. As scared as he was, he almost did decide to stay.

Almost.

"Just be safe. I'll be back soon." He squeezed Bells into a tight hug goodbye. This was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. And Bells wasn't going to make it any easier for him. She wrapped her arms around his neck like she used to do when she was small enough for him to carry her around, and started to cry.

Again, Bilbo's terror and resolve to leave ebbed. He held her for a few minutes and then couldn't take it anymore. He pulled away and put his hands back on her still bobbing shoulders. Though now her tears had become a little steadier, and the pitch of her crying went higher. Suddenly suspicious, he looked under the hair hanging over her face and saw that she was giggling. When he backed away in horror of being tricked, she started laughing outright.

"Your face!" She gasped for air between guffaws. "Oh, that was priceless!"

Bilbo readjusted his pack with an indignant grunt and stalked off, all doubts about leaving his sister alone to fend for herself now effortlessly shoved aside. "When the wizard comes to find you, you can join me at the inn in Buckland!" he called over his shoulder good naturedly.

"Ok, brother! I will," she called back happily with no intention of ever leaving Bag End. "I love you!"

Bilbo stopped in the middle of the path and turned around.

"I love you too." He spoke barely more than a whisper, but Bells heard it across the open yard and knew that it was true.

*knock knock knock*

Bells looked up from the tasty meal she had just been preparing for her bedtime snack. Her hand frozen in mid-air holding a juicy lemon she had been using to flavor her freshly roasted chicken. Sighing in annoyance, she set down the lemon and left her just-ready meal on the table. She tied her dressing gown securely with a touch more force necessary in her agitation at being disturbed during dinner. A major breech of Hobbit protocol. Whoever was at the door was about to receive a surly greeting if this wasn't very, very important.

She hesitated a moment before opening the door, remembering Bilbo's warning that Gandalf would be coming by, though he had been rather vague about just what the wizard wanted. Bells took a moment to contemplate her situation. She was still quite young by Hobbit standards, barely 30 years old, somewhat angelic looking with her wild curly blond hair and sky blue eyes, rather voluptuous, though still a bit skinny by Hobbit standards. She was also alone in a big hobbit hole, in a quiet corner of the Shire at a quiet time of night. Maybe she shouldn't open the door.

The knock came again, more insistently. Bells shook herself and opened the door. It was only Gandalf, after all.

"Dwalin, at your service."

"Er- Bells at yours." She made an awkward bob of a curtsey to the strange Dwarf standing in the doorway. Before she could recover, he had barreled his way into the foyer of Bag End.

"Do you know Bilbo?" She questioned, not really comfortable with a stranger entering the house with her alone in it. Gandalf she could handle, but nobody said anything about a Dwarf.

"No." He looked her up and down like he was looking for some tell-tale sign that she was crazy. Seeming not to find anything, the Dwarf got to the point. "Where is it lassie? Is it down here?"

"Is what down where?" Bells asked cautiously, turning to follow him.

"Supper. He said there'd be food. Lots of it." The Dwarf began sniffing around the several corridors leading off from the hallway.

"He said? Who said?" By now Bells had managed to collect her wits. She was alone with what was obviously a ravenous Dwarf, who seemed interested in nothing but wolfing down a good meal. He acted at least somewhat civil, and far more interested in filling his stomach than hurting her. Maybe it was better she just kept on his good side. And after all, Bilbo never said anything about turning any _Dwarves_ away, and she'd never seen a Dwarf before in her life, though of course there were many stories. Maybe if she fed him, he could tell her some of his own.

She mutely pointed down the hall towards the dining room. Dwalin strode through the hallway, while a very curious Bells followed quickly behind.

The Dwarf settled himself down in the chair in front of the fire with the freshly seasoned dinner set before it. Bells turned away for a split second to grab a tray piled high with freshly baked scones. By the time she turned back around the Dwarf had already downed a quarter of the roast chicken with a full glass of mulled wine.

"Very good, this. Is there any more?" The Dwarf asked.

Thinking out of self-preservation, she subtly swiped two scones into the pocket of her dressing gown (sewn for just such a midnight snack) before offering the tray to the Dwarf. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed one into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

"It's just that I wasn't expecting… company." She lamely defended herself.

While Bells dumbly gaped at Dwalin's savage gluttony, she failed to respond to the doorbell ring that echoed loudly from the main hallway.

"That'll be the door." Dwalin prompted her with an authoritative glare.

Bells walked hesitantly to the door. Surely the Dwarf's imposition the same week Bilbo had an encounter with the long absent wizard wasn't a coincidence, and with another arrival on the doorstep, it seemed tonight was going to be a night to remember. With a steadying sigh, Bells opened the round door to find another Dwarf on the doorstep. This one had a long smooth white beard and an ever-ready polite smile.

"Balin, at your service."

"Good evening." Bells said in her astonishment at yet another Dwarf.

The Dwarf, not quite so heedless as his predecessor, did not barrel in right away. Instead, he tried to make polite with the Hobbit girl by chatting about the weather.

"Yes, yes, it is. Though I think it might rain later," he said as he walked into the antechamber of Bag End. "Am I late?"

"Late for what…?"

There was a small clinking sound from the adjoining living room where Dwalin was trying to get his armored hand out of one of the pastry jars with some treacle in it.

"Oh! Haha, evening brother!"

"Oh! By my beard, you're shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us, " said Balin, as he ambled into the living room.

Bells, not knowing what else to do, shut the door behind him and followed the second Dwarf into the hallway, only to witness the strangest form of greeting she had ever seen. The Dwarves braced each other's shoulders and after a knowing laugh, head butted each other… hard. To which they only laughed more.

"Excuse me," Bells ventured. She really didn't want to come off as rude, she didn't even really want them to leave, but she had to do the proper thing here. "But I don't know that you're in the right house, you see…"

The Dwarves paid the young Hobbit's rather long winded speech about 'having the right address, and that she was very tired, but that they really should be on their way' absolutely no attention as they began to raid the kitchen, pouring themselves liberal draughts of wine and experimented with some of the cheese, discarding a rather sharp blend of blue cheese, which happened to be Bilbo's favorite.

"but I had to cover my ass in case Bilbo ever hears about this; I'm sorry."

There was an awkward pause as if the Dwarves had just remembered that she was standing next to them. Perhaps they had, until the awkward silence snapped them out of their party planning.

"Apology accepted." Balin said with a reassuring smile. "Oh, now fill it up, brother. Don't stint." Bells had no idea if they had actually heard her, but she had made the proper noises that would satisfy Hobbit manners, and she was content to be done with it. Whatever happened next, Bilbo would have to hold her blameless as she had done all she could; it wasn't as if she could physically kick them out. With her Hobbit honor satisfied, she was eager for the rest of the strangeness that was certain to happen next to unfold.

As it happened, there was yet another knock at the door.

This time having an inkling of what would be on the other side, she wasn't quite as thrown as she would have been to find a pair of very young Dwarves about her own age on the doorstep.

"Fili." Announced the taller blonde Dwarf.

"And Kili." Supplied the slightly younger looking brunette Dwarf.

"At your service." They too were smilers, if in a roguish sort of way. At this point Bells just stepped back and let strangers in.

"Where is Mr. Boggins?"

"Er, well, he's not here right now."

"What, has it been canceled?" asked Kili.

"No one told us," followed Fili.

In their eagerness for an explanation, they had rushed forward, closing any distance between themselves and the little Hobbitess, who found herself a little flustered at being so close to (a couple of rather handsome) strangers.

"Canceled? No- nothing's been cancelled." she reassured them. Anything to make them give her a little space (and to smile at her again).

"Well, that's a relief." Said Kili with a relieved goofy grin on his face.

"Careful with these, I've just had them sharpened." Fili dumped an armload of weapons on Bells with an amused look as she half collapsed under the weight of the metal.

"It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?" Kili asked as he began taking inventory of the nearby living room.

"Oh, no, it's been in Bilbo's family for years- That's my aunt's hope chest! Can you please not do that?" Kili had begun scraping the bottom of his shoes on its edge.

"Fili. Kili. Come on. Give us a hand" Dwalin strode in and mercifully collected the two dwarves before they could cause any more mischief… in the foyer at least.

"Mr. Dwalin!" Kili greeted his old friend.

"Let's shove this in the hallway otherwise we'll never get everyone in." Balin sagely advised the little group huddled around Bilbo's great grandmother's dining room table that his great grandfather had specially carved for her on their 40th anniversary.

As Bells followed the Dwarves she was astonished to see that the dining room table had been extended with a spare table she had never seen before. Where had they found that? It was like they knew the place better than herself, and while she had not lived at Bag End all her life, she'd been there for almost two decades. Certainly they couldn't know it better than her. Against all logic, the Dwarves continued to make themselves at home with a cheery and industrious air, clearing out the entire pantry and setting everything on the-now feasting table. Obviously they were expecting even more company.

"Everyone? How many more are there?"

As if summoned by her train of thought, there was another knock at the door.

A completely bewildered Bells stumbled towards the door, only to have it fall open under the weight of half a dozen Dwarves who promptly fell inside, followed by several more and a stooping man in a raggedy grey robe and pointy hat.

"Gandalf!" Bells cried in delight. It had been years since the wizard last passed through the Shire, and she was overjoyed to see him, even if her brother had fled in terror of him.

"Belladonna!" the astonished wizard gasped. The tall man put a hand on her shoulder and steered the little Hobbit aside for a quiet conversation. . "What are you doing here? Where is Bilbo?"

"Bilbo's gone; he left me in charge of Bag End until he comes back. He said that you're not welcome in this house, but I think you're more than welcome, and as he's not here he can't object." She gave him an accusing look. "What did you say to make him so scared? He's determined not to come back until you leave."

The wizard looked uncomfortable. "Well, Bilbo had agreed to a sort of… enterprise," he answered evasively. The bustle of the Dwarves interrupted the hushed conversation as several of them passed between the Hobbit and the wizard, on a small quest for more drinking ware. Unwilling to let the wizard off so easily, Bells made the wizard promise that they would finish their conversation later, as she hurried off to supervise that no long term harm was done to Bag End, and to ensure that Bilbo wouldn't have a fit when he saw the place.

She ran down the hall after a particularly large bottle of wine. "That's Bilbo's special wineyard, excuse me!" The Dwarf wheeled around and garbled what was either insane gibberish (not surprising, considering his injury) or some Dwarfish to her. She was so flabbergasted by the axe half-buried in his skull she just let him go.

The Dwarf behind her with a horn to his ear tried to explain. "He's had… an injury. "

Still shocked, Bells could only stammer "From the axe in his head?"

Apparently the hearing horn didn't work very well. "Dead? No, only between his ears. His legs work fine."

The hubbub continued in what was actually a remarkably orchestrated set up of a marvelous dinner party; one just couldn't see the beauty of it as there were so many Dwarves in one place the whole thing looked chaotic. And decimating, as Bells headed for the fast-depleting pantry.

"That's a tad excessive, don't you think?" She asked when the full stack of cheese that Bilbo had provisioned for the month went by, carried by a single Dwarf. "Have you got a cheese knife?" She asked with all the proper concern of a hostess.

"Cheese knife?" Bifor questioned. "He eats it by the block."

"Oh." Bells shrugged, content that while the Dwarves were certain to eat her out of house and home overnight, they were at least self-sufficient as guests.

Gandalf was just finishing setting the table with utensils when Dori kindly enquired if he would care for some 'nice chamomile tea.'

"Oh, no thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me I think." The Dwarf's face fell a little, and he scurried away to find some wine and a little glass.

Table setting completed, Gandalf set to the business of making sure all of the Dwarves were present, which was rather difficult, considering that none of them kept still for even a moment.

"Let's see… Fili, Kili, Bifor, Bofor, Bomber. Balin, Dwalin. Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Ori!" the wizard exclaimed, as the diminutive Dwarf came up underneath the wizard while engaging in a tug of war with Bells over a bowl of Bilbo's prize-winning tomatoes that had earned him first place in the faire the week before.

The Dwarf with axe buried in the middle of his forehead stumbled up to Gandalf and muttered a string of old Dwarfish to the wizard, ending with a brusque beating on his forearm for effect.

"Yes, you're quite right, Bifor." This certainly *was* going to be one hell of a party.

Continuing his census, Gandalf realized that not everyone had arrived yet. "We appear to be one Dwarf short." The wizard mused aloud.

Dwalin, leaning negligently against a doorway sipping some mead did not seem the least bit worried. "He's late, is all. He traveled North to a meeting of our kin. He will come."

"Mr. Gandalf. A little glass of red wine as requested. It's got a… fruity bouquet."

"Oh. Cheers." Gandalf downed the little coup in half a gulp. Looking pensively at the little thimble, he lamented asking for only a 'little' bit of wine.

In almost no time at all, the table was fully set, and laden with anything and everything the Dwarves had deemed edible from the pantry, which, being a Hobbit pantry, was quite the spread. Bells had given up trying to hold back any of the food; she would just have to go down to the market tomorrow morning and tell Mr. Brandybuck to put it on Bilbo's tab, since her brother hadn't left her with enough coin to refurbish the entire kitchen. Still, looking at a empty pantry is quite a nasty shock for a Hobbit. She eventually just refused to look into the doorway whenever she passed the now desolate closet.

It was nothing like even the silliest, rowdiest nights at the Green Dragon tavern. Not that Bilbo would ever let her go to something so wild; she would sneak out anyways, and often played in the band as an excuse to other respectable Hobbits for her participation. She was such a favorite of everyone that somehow word never got back to Bilbo of his little sister's exploits in the tavern.

This was a full on frat pledge party. Fili was in charge of refilling goblets and steins, not bothering to squeeze around the table, he just walked over it. "Who wants an ale? There you go!" Dwalin lost some of his surliness and poured a bit of extra ale into Oin's ear horn; Oin seemed more distressed at wasting the ale than having it all spill down the side of his head. Bells momentarily worried about the spilt alcohol stripping the wood (which seemed to exponentially accumulate as the evening wore on), before shrugging her shoulders as the whole affair had been entirely out of her hands long ago. Even Gandalf joined in and loosened up a bit, having procured a larger mug and a spot next to the pitcher.

The whole house seemed to echo with laughter and merriment. Bells was fascinated with everything from the belching contest to Bombur's feat of catching a boiled egg in his mouth. In recognition of his prowess, she gave him the biggest helping of the treacle she had prepared earlier that day in anticipation of Bilbo's return later that week.

All the fun aside, however, Bells had to admit that the Dwarves were having an adverse effect on the house that had been so lovingly tended by Bilbo. The floor was covered in grime and she doubted there was any food left in the pantry. There was also a noxious stink coming down the hall from the bathroom. The Hobbit hole seemed doomed to disarray, and there was little a single Hobbit could do to limit the damage on that scale. There were still some things she could not let go unchallenged, however.

"Excuse me that is a doily, not a dishcloth!" she called as she ran down the hallway after an itinerant dwarf.

"But it's full of holes." Bifor thoughtfully pointed out.

"It's supposed to look like that, it's crochet." She snatched the dainty cloth from him and began smoothing it out, searching for any damage.

"Oh, a wonderful game it is, too. If you've got the balls for it."

Sure enough, there was a large rent in the design. Even if she managed to stitch it up, it would never be the same color as it had already been used to mop up some spilled wine. Bells sat down and put her head in her hands. "Bilbo is going to kill me!"

A slightly drunken Gandalf wandered by and noticed her despair. "My dear Belladonna, what on earth is the matter?"

Incredulous, she gestured at the disarray. "What's the matter? There is now way I'm going to be able to get all this cleaned up before Bilbo gets home. Once he sees this mess he's going to use me for a mop!" Forcing herself to take a deep breath Bells tried to rationally get to the bottom of this havoc. "Not that I mind Gandalf, but what are they doing here?"

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them." He waved his arm at Bofur who tried to steal some of Nori's recently appropriated sausage links, escalating into a full out brawl.

"I'm already 'used' to them, they're a lot of fun and much more interesting that anything that ever happened at the Green Dragon. But look at the state of the kitchen. There's mud trod in the carpet. They've pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom, they've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in Bilbo's house!" Bells took a deep breath and collected herself. It was no use whining at the wizard, much less screaming at him.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" Ori stepped into the middle of the argument, completely oblivious to the exasperation of Bells, or to Gandalf's relief.

Fili walked by and gathered the plate. "Here you go, Ori. Give it to me." Fili snatched the plate and negligently tossed it down the hall. Gandalf scooted out of the way just in time. Just then Kili darted out from around the corner, caught the plate, and spun it behind him, flinging it down the adjacent hallway.

Further down the line, Bofur was already washing dishes in the sink. He caught the plate tossed at the back of his head without even a blink. Bells later attributed this to his axe injury giving him quicker reflexes and a certain amount of intuition.

Bells was horrified at the way these so fun and friendly dwarves were treating Bilbo's treasured dishware. "Excuse me, that's Bilbo's mother's West Farthing crockery, it's over 100 year's old!"

The Dwarves ignored her protests and continued the game. Even Gandalf joined in, purposely getting back onto the line of fire so he could duck and bounce about. The dwarves were more coordinated, however, as they bounced the dishes between their hands, off their forearms and knees, even tossing them under their legs. Things really escalated as the seated Dwarves began tapping the cutlery.

"Oh, don't do that, you'll blunt them!

"Do y'hear that lads? Bofor queried as they continued mercilessly to tease the Hobbitess. "She says we'll blunt the knives!"

This was one of Kili's favorite games and he started to sing to the rhythm the other Dwarves tapped out.

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks"

Of course, Fili had to join in too. "Smash the bottles and burn the corks."

A few more started to sing. "Chip the glasses and crack the plates."

Everyone joined in for the chorus: "That's what Belladonna hates!"

Cut the cloth and tread the fat

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat

Pour the milk on the pantry floor

Splash the wine on every door!

It was a smorgasbord of flying dishes. One false move and the whole line of plates and bowls would have littered the floor. A few of dwarves only passed the dishes around and sang while the others performed the aerial circus of cutlery. Bombor was carefully scouring the dishware for any leftover food. Balin sat at the end of the table, idly tapping passing dishes into the air off his own plate. Gandalf encouraged higher and more complicated throws from the younger Dwarves by blowing target smoke rings.

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl

Pound them up with a thumping pole

And when you've finished if any are whole

Send them down the hall to roll

By now, a full band had formed as Bofur pulled out his flute, and Dwalin his fiddle. Oin improvised a whistle with Bilbo's favorite teapot. It really was a fun tune, if Bells hadn't been so worried about Bilbo's things she would have joined in herself.

"That's what Belladonna hates!"

As the dwarves finished their song, Bells was amazed to see the entire collection carefully piled and… clean! These dwarves didn't mess around, even while having fun.

The fun was soon to come to an end, however as an ominous knock came from the front door, followed by an ominous silence by the Dwarves.

Everything went still.

"He is here." Gandalf announced.


End file.
